


Counting to 10: The Making of a Messiah

by rz_jocelyn



Category: Messiah Project - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4171593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rz_jocelyn/pseuds/rz_jocelyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten moments shared by Kaidou Eiri and Mitsumi Haku as they grow to become the one person in each others' lives who would defy the odds for them; their one and only Messiah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The fascinating characters of the Messiah Project do not belong to me, but to their respective creators. Enjoy~

When Mitsumi Haku met Kaidou Eiri for the first time, he was certain that their partnership would not last. They did not get along; they were too different. Eiri was heatedly noisy - not at all shy about making his grievances known - where Haku was silently unruffled - he preferred giving the cold shoulder to anyone who had annoyed him. The only belongings that Eiri owned were the clothes on his back - which, Haku was quite certain, was provided by Sakura anyway - while Haku hoarded his memories in the form of candy wrappers and empty juice boxes, which filled the room he lived in - the room he and Eiri lived in - to the brim.

About which Eiri, quite loudly, made his grievances known.

Then, there were the more routine things. Eiri savoured his main meals - because, he had explained, you never know what the future could bring and when each meal could be your last - while Haku preferred snacking and having desserts - because, he reasoned, you must take comfort where you could and treasure what little happiness you had. Eiri, Haku had commented, cared too much about what people thought while Haku, Eiri had scolded, could learn to care more about personal space and social conventions. 

To which Haku ignored with an unruffled flippancy.

Grudgingly though, Haku admitted that he and Eiri could work well together, but that was the extent of their partnership; a purely professional one. 

Certainly, they couldn't be considered Messiahs; at least, in all the ways that mattered. 

When Mitsumi Haku met Kaidou Eiri for the first time, he was certain that their partnership would not last. They did not get along; they were too different. And Haku was glad for this even as he continued to push Eiri away, ruthless with his pranks and uncompromising with his quirks - and his heart - turning a deaf ear to the complaints that Eiri had and his talk about wanting to swap Messiahs. 

Haku was glad for this because this meant that he wouldn't lose another Messiah.

Because in every way that mattered, Kaidou Eiri wasn't Haku's Messiah. 

 

~ OWARI ~


	2. Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spoilers for "Messiah ~ Dou no Shou ~". The fascinating characters of the Messiah Project do not belong to me, but to their respective creators. Enjoy~

Kaidou Eiri was sick of second chances; he was sick of getting a new lease on life. If Fate had asked for his opinion, he would've wanted to die in the fire that had killed his family.

The fire that had killed Moe.

But no matter how much he fought against it, no matter how many time he threw himself into the line of fire - no matter how many times he wanted to die - Eiri was always given a second chance.

Waking up to the sterile scent of medicine and disinfectant, to the beeping of the heart monitor that was piercing to ears that had become accustomed to muffled sounds and silence, was a sensation that Eiri was forcibly familiar with.

Which was why he simply laid there as his mind rebooted and his senses recovered. He only blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the light, and he didn't even twitch at the feeling returning to his limbs; he could feel the coolness of the sheets against his toes, the heavy warmth against his side and the numbness of his arm, which was beginning to prickle with pins and needles.

The last two sensations gave him a pause, especially the pins and needles; he had never awoken to pins and needles before, at least not when he was lying flat on his back.

Turning his head, Eiri stared at the head of brown just beside him; so close that he could feel the tips of hazel brush against his nose with every breath he took. His arm - the offending limb that now twitched involuntarily as pins and needles attacked in earnest - was still warm, the barest touches of body heat lingering where something - or someone - had pinned it down to the bed. Eiri was also suddenly aware of the ticklish breaths against his neck and the comfortingly sweet scent of Nanny that, much to his relief, was beginning to overpower the smell of disinfectant, which Eiri had always associated with the nightmares that had been his reality.

It was Haku; Mitsumi Haku.

Eiri's Messiah.

And his mind was bombarded with flashes of memory - of him promising Haku that he would live where everyone else had died; of the two of them confronting Higayama; of him desperately shaking Haku out of his stupor at the revelation of Haku's brother; of heat and pain, and the sensation of his blood soaking into his uniform; of the warmth of Haku's arms around him; of Haku's voice, distraught and anguished, pleading with him to keep his eyes open, to just hang on.

With vivid clarity, Eiri remembered the promises they had traded; that they would both live on, surviving on the hope that they would meet again. Haku had promised, in a voice that trembled with vulnerability yet was strong in its conviction, that he would be there for Eiri when Eiri needed him most.

Just as Eiri had been there for him when Haku had needed him most.

Bound together even when they were apart.

'Haku,' he whispered, more breath than actual voice, wincing slightly as pain lanced through his dry throat.

But it was enough.

Eiri watched as Haku stirred, his head tilting until they were now face-to-face, a hairsbreadth away from each other, so close that Eiri could feel Haku's breath on his lips, their noses barely brushing.

He watched as Haku's eyes fluttered open, as sleep-dulled dark chocolate brown orbs sharpened, awareness seeping in, chased by a whole host of emotions - stunned surprise, relief and an overwhelming happiness.

And Eiri was filled with a sentiment entirely foreign to him.

He didn't even try to protest as Haku gathered him into his arms. Ignoring the aches of his body, Eiri clung on to Haku; his hold on his Messiah just as desperate as his Messiah's hold was on him.

For the first time since he opened his eyes to the vicious flames burning his life to ash, Eiri was honestly glad that he had survived.

Because this - the weight of Haku's arms around him; the wetness of Haku's tears as he buried his face in Eiri's hair; the feel of Haku's body in Eiri's arms, solid and real; the warmth of Haku's back, trembling with sobs that Eiri tried to soothe even as Eiri could feel his own throat close up with tears - this was Kaidou Eiri's new lease on life.

This was his second chance.

 

~ OWARI ~


	3. Three Strikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spoilers for "Messiah ~ Dou no Shou ~" and "Messiah ~ Hisui no Shou ~". The fascinating characters of the Messiah Project do not belong to me. Enjoy~
> 
> Info:
> 
> "-dairi" - Loosely translated to "representative" or "substitute". In the case of Kamikita Ryuuji, he isn't the actual head of the Church; rather, he is acting as a substitute for and representative of Ichijima Harumi.

Everything was the same, yet everything was different. If he didn't think about it overly much, he could pretend that this was just another routine day with him stopping by his room to grab a juice box of Nanny before leaving for a meeting or a training session.

Everything was the same, yet everything was different. He still had the room to himself, just as he always had since their graduation process had begun.

But just the thought of drinking the Nanny made him feel sick.

Mitsumi Haku sat heavily on his bed, his hand blindly sweeping everything - sweets, candy wrappers, Nanny juice boxes - down on to the floor; he didn't want to look, didn't want to see.

He couldn't imagine ever drinking Nanny again without wanting to throw up at the nauseatingly sweet taste of the drink.

_It had taken Haku ages before he had been able to eat candy again; the sight of the multi-coloured sweets spilling out of Ryouji's stomach, sticky with drying blood, etched into the back of his eyelids. A sweet scent of sugar lingered in the air as ants - big ants, small ants, worker ants, soldier ants - crawled all over the stash._

**_Strike one, little brother._ **

_Haku had never eaten that particular type of candy ever again._

Haku frantically, desperately, cast his gaze around; every where he turned, all he could see were the condemning letters emblazoned over scattered juice boxes. Haku really should've cleaned up the room.

Like _he_ had pestered Haku about.

In the end, there was really only one place that was empty of Haku's stash.

Haku stared blankly at the bed across of his. The bed was clean, tidy; sheets neat and straightened. The bed was cozy, comfortable; it was safe.

The bed was _his_.

If Haku stared hard enough, he could see the faded image of his Messiah, Kaidou Eiri, turning down the bed, looking darkly at Haku, a scowl on his face. If Haku listened closely enough, he could hear his Messiah's voice, familiar, scolding, lingering.

_'No, Haku, don't even think about it! You're eating chocolate! You'll get it all over the sheets!'_

There was a sharp rap on the door.

'Come in,' Haku called out, his gaze shifting for a split second.

When he turned back, Eiri was gone.

Haku swallowed, tilting his head back as tears burned in his eyes.

'Get it together, Mitsumi!' he inwardly chided as the door opened to reveal Shirasaki Mamoru and Kaito Yuuri.

'Mitsumi-san, we, uh...' The usually self-assured Shirasaki was unusually hesitant, but Haku supposed it was no surprise considering how he had barely said two words aside from the necessary mission briefing to any of the juniors after he had snapped at them at Eiri's...

Haku considered attempting a smile, but decided against it. After all, he was trying to make them feel safe coming to see him, not send them fleeing to Kamikita with the report that he had officially snapped.

Even if the latter was closer to the truth.

And it certainly wouldn't do to arouse more of Kamikita's suspicion than he already had.

Sensing that his Messiah was not about to say anything more, Kaito stepped in from behind Shirasaki, barely squeezing in through the doorway, nudging the other junior out of the way with the box in his hands.

'Mitsumi-san, Kamikita-dairi asked us to bring this back to the room.'

This, was a cardboard box, its lids closed, concealing the contents inside. Haku stiffened.

He knew that box; he remembered every dent and every squashed corner. It was very ordinary cardboard box.

It had been _his_.

_The case had been ordinary too; a black, nondescript oboe case like any other._

_But Haku recognized it, recognized every scratch and scar on it. And though the usually familiar instrument was no where in sight, Haku recognized the contents that spilled out from it - the chunks of skin, organs and tissue, small enough to fit neatly into the case, but large enough that each chunk was identifiable; the fingers, the toes, the eyes, the lips, the nose, the tufts of hair._

**_Strike two, little brother._ **

_They had been Kazuma's._

'Mitsumi-san?'

Haku blinked. He allowed himself a second to breathe before looking up from the box into Shirasaki and Kaito's worried faces.

'Ah, just leave it on that bed over there.'

Haku kept his gaze locked on to Shirasaki's face, resisting the urge to burn holes into the back of Kaito's skull even as his sharp ears picked up on the slight thump that the box made against the sheets. Shirasaki eyed him warily, stance tensed and ready. Haku allowed his expression to soften, even if he still couldn't quite muster up a smile, waiting as Kaito returned to stand in front of him.

'Thank you,' he said quietly, 'I'll take it from here.'

Both juniors bowed before taking their leave. His hand on the doorknob, Shirasaki hesitated. 'If it makes it easier...'

Haku shook his head. 'He's my Messiah.'

If Kamikita had wanted Eiri's possessions to be disposed of immediately, he would've sent Shirasaki and Kaito to the incinerator. 

Instead, he had sent them here, to Haku.

_Are you trying to prove your innocence, Kamikita?_

Shirasaki nodded before bowing again, closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

And Haku was once again alone in an empty room; his only companion a box.

Steeling himself and sucking in a steadying breath, Haku approached the box, carefully lifting the lids and peering inside. There was hardly anything in there, although, Haku had expected as much since Eiri had only moved out of the room temporarily; most of his things were still in the boxes under his bed. He lifted up a couple of shirts - grey, standard issue - a spare uniform - complete with a spare belt - a plastic gun and a pack of rubber bullets, a box of actual bullets, stationery, a couple of files, books, stray papers, and...

Haku's hand tightened around a very familiar item; he hadn't seen it around lately and had assumed that Eiri had tossed it out.

To think that, Eiri had actually taken it with him. 

His fingers trembled as he turned the knob, the needles clicking together softly. 

'Eiri, wake up!'

With a wild cry, Haku flung the alarm clock at the wall; the loud crash barely registering as the clock splintered, its plastic casing cracking, its needles and gears bouncing off the wall and floor. Spinning around on his feet, Haku blindly felt for the bed and the box that sat atop it, tipping it over and ignoring the items that spilled over on to the bed, scattering across the floor, desperately grabbing for the casual T-shirt that his Messiah had often worn.

_Eiri._

He clutched at the shirt, burying his face in the soft cloth.

_Eiri Eiri EiriEiriEiriEIRI._

The shirt still smelt like him. 

He was aware that he was crying, and crying messily; the shirt getting rapidly soaked with his tears, mucus and saliva. Eiri would've been so mad, but it didn't matter.

Because it meant that Eiri wasn't missing, wasn't gone.

It meant that Eiri would have been here to get mad at him.

It meant that Eiri would have been _here_. 

_'You still believe that Kaidou-kun is alive, don't you?'_

And Haku did; Haku did believe that Eiri was alive, that he wasn't dead. 

But he was still gone.

And Haku couldn't forgive everyone who had had a hand in taking Eiri away from him; his brother - because though his brother might not have killed Eiri, Haku's gut feeling told him that he had had his part to play - and Kamikita - because it was suspicious how Eiri's "death" - mission accident, _suicide_ \- had been covered up and dismissed so quickly.

And himself; most of all, Haku couldn't forgive himself. 

Would it have kept Eiri by his side if Haku had let Eiri shoot his brother, no, Serizawa, the day that they had met the terrorist? Would it it have kept Eiri by his side if Haku had been more aware of Eiri's own fears, and he had done something, anything, to reassure the younger man, to ease the distance that he sensed had been growing between them with the reappearance of his brother? Would it have kept Eiri by his side if Haku had tried harder in making it known to Eiri that no, just because he didn't want his brother dead, it hadn't meant that he hadn't cared about Eiri, _that he had wanted Eiri dead instead_. 

Would it have kept Eiri by his side - would it have kept Eiri _with him_ - if he had told Eiri that yes, Serizawa was his brother, but Eiri, Eiri was _his Messiah._  

And yes, he had been searching for his brother - the brother who had protected him from the violence of his childhood; the brother who had given him gifts of happiness when there had been nothing but a world of pain; the brother who had made him into the person he was today.

But he too had been searching for someone else - a Messiah who would accept him for who he was, his annoying quirks, his bloodied past; a Messiah who would stick by him and who would fight to be with him; a Messiah who would defy even death for him.

A Messiah who he could promise his life to; a Messiah he could promise his future to. 

A Messiah that he had lost hope of ever finding.

Until Kaidou Eiri had exploded into his life.

Collapsing, Haku didn't even register the pain of his knees hitting the floor. Curling up into a tight ball, he was aware that he was suffocating himself, but though he needed air, he didn't want it - because the scent of the room was cloying, but the shirt, the shirt smelt like Eiri. 

Kaidou Eiri, his Messiah.

Eiri, who was now  _gone_.

Haku didn't - couldn't - believe that Eiri was dead.

But it didn't change the fact that Eiri was gone.

And there was nothing,  _nothing_ , that Haku could do about it.

_**Strike three, little brother.** _

_**Say 'Hi' to your Messiah for me.** _

_**  
** _

~ OWARI ~

 

 


End file.
